Author Archives: John Biscello

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About John Biscello

Originally from Brooklyn, NY, novelist, poet, performer, playwright and filmmaker, John Biscello, has lived in the high-desert grunge-wonderland of Taos, New Mexico since 2001. He is the author of six novels, Broken Land, a Brooklyn Tale, Raking the Dust, Nocturne Variations, No Man’s Brooklyn, The Last Furies, and No One Dreams in Color; a collection of stories, Freeze Tag, two poetry collections, Arclight and Moonglow on Mercy Street; and a fable, The Jackdaw and the Doll, illustrated by Izumi Yokoyama. He also adapted classic fables, which were paired with the vintage illustrations of artist, Paul Bransom, for the collection: Once Upon a Time, Classic Fables Reimagined. His plays have been staged and performed both nationally and internationally.

You Say You Want a Revolution?

Posted on October 30, 2020 by John Biscello

The secret to becoming a true revolutionary, lay yourself out upon the world’s limitless altar  of secrets, and praise the hidden roots of everything you encounter daily, heart bared as proof of light’s need to air.

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Naming Desire

Posted on October 29, 2020 by John Biscello

Whoever I am, I have always depended on the kindness of words– such strange company, these solitary verses.

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Moonstruck

Posted on October 29, 2020 by John Biscello

I never learned the secret delicious recipe of making a poem from moon, or the bluest glacial moon-cheese from any of my teachers. It wasn’t their fault. They might have regarded the moon as something distant, something belonging to astronauts, … Continue reading →

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Send to Returner

Posted on October 29, 2020 by John Biscello

At the edge of a weathered postcard, the faintest glisten, by which memory holds true and offers proof—There were people, a trip, a sea, clouds, fragile patterns, mist.  There was this life, where we dreamed, and so this postcard, this … Continue reading →

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Rising

Posted on October 29, 2020 by John Biscello

Dreams,undeferred,coupled with Hope,that thing unfettered,to keep us companyand warm our solitude,as we stumble bravelythrough a long night’s journeyinto the bated gospelof days rising to claim us.

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Music

Posted on October 29, 2020 by John Biscello

To the call of light, Music, unending, beckons you to harmonize.

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Wonder

Posted on October 29, 2020 by John Biscello

Ask a child, any child, what the difference is between Monday and Thursday? No matter how they respond, look them in the eyes and tell them how wonderful they are.

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Seeds

Posted on October 28, 2020 by John Biscello

The other day I met a monk who juggled watermelon seeds with his tongue. When I asked him how he did it, he spit the seeds at me, a staccato stream of seeds as if the monk were no monk … Continue reading →

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This Way In

Posted on October 28, 2020 by John Biscello

Between passages, a dark pause to recollect the lighted means home.

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Martian Lore

Posted on October 28, 2020 by John Biscello

The Martians, in their conscious longevity, stamped our passports and immigration documents long before our legacy of amnesia broke and we came to realize that everything, including our sense of planetary privilege, has been a sham, a lost man’s desperate … Continue reading →

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